⚠️ ADULT STORY - Magical Realism
In the quiet, lantern-lit streets of Matsushima, Sharva stumbles upon a small ramen shop hidden between towering buildings. Hungry and desperate for warmth, he steps inside-only to be captivated by Aika, the enigmati...
Aika’s voice trembled, fractured like glass on the verge of shattering. “I… I’m not who you think I am,” she admitted, her words quivering under the weight of her confession. “My real name isn’t Aika. I’m… I’m the last surviving member of the royal family of Velhira from Kamui Island. I am Princess Tsumugi Mei.”
Her words fell like a blade, cutting deeper than any weapon ever could. The air in the room thickened, oppressive, as if it carried the gravity of her revelation. Velhira—a name steeped in the whispers of a fallen kingdom, distant and mythical. The dragon kingdom had once allied with Velhira, only to rebel and bring devastation. Those tales had felt like relics of another era, disconnected from the present. Yet here she stood, the embodiment of those ancient stories, a fragile thread tying the past to the now.
Her gaze fell to the floor, her grip on Sharva’s shirt loosening as though she feared rejection. “I gave up that life,” she murmured, her voice nearly swallowed by the stillness. “I gave up my name, my title. I thought I could disappear, start over. But they found me. They always find me.”
Her shoulders quaked as she took a trembling breath. “The man tonight… he wasn’t just a stalker. He was an assassin, sent to finish what they started years ago. I’ve been running for so long. No matter where I go, they always find me.”
Sharva’s chest tightened with a surge of emotion—a tempest of rage and protectiveness. The word “assassin” echoed in his mind, igniting a fire that burned brighter with each repetition. Someone had sent a killer for her, knowing exactly who she was. The thought of losing her, of her being taken, filled him with an unrelenting fury. His fists clenched at his sides, the memory of the man who had escaped this apartment haunting him. He should have done more. He should have ended it.
But Aika watched him with wide, tear-brimmed eyes, a silent plea etched into her features. She was more than afraid; she was weary—exhausted from years of running, from carrying this burden alone. Sharva’s anger wavered under the weight of her vulnerability. How blind he had been, wrapped in his assumptions while she bore this crushing fear.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, his voice raw, laden with emotions he couldn’t name.
“I didn’t want to drag you into this,” she whispered, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “I thought if I stayed hidden, they’d stop hunting me. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. But I was wrong. They’ll never stop.”
Her pain was a dagger to his heart, shattering his resolve to remain distant. He reached for her, his hands firm but gentle on her trembling shoulders, anchoring her to the present. “You’re not running anymore,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “I won’t let them take you. Whoever they are, whatever they want—you’re mine to protect now.”
Her breath hitched, her lips parting in disbelief. A flicker of hope danced in her eyes, fragile and fleeting, before fear swallowed it whole. “Sharva, no,” she protested, shaking her head. Her hands clutched at his shirt, desperate. “You don’t understand. These people—they’ll destroy you. They’ll destroy everything you’ve worked for, everything you love. I can’t let you do this for me.”
“You don’t have a choice,” he replied softly, cradling her face in his hands. Her skin was cool, her tears warm as they streaked his fingers. “I’m not doing this because I have to. I’m doing this because I want to. I don’t care what it costs me. You’re worth it.”
Her resolve crumbled, and a broken sob escaped her lips as she leaned into his touch. “I was so foolish to come back to you,” she whispered. “I told myself I wouldn’t, that I’d stay away to keep you safe. But I couldn’t. I wanted you by my side, even if it was selfish. Even if it meant putting you in danger.”
Sharva leaned closer, his forehead brushing hers in a gesture of quiet intimacy. “You’re not selfish for wanting to be loved,” he murmured, his voice steady and gentle. “And you don’t have to face this alone anymore. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”
Her hands found his, gripping them with trembling desperation. Tears fell freely now, each one carrying the weight of her fears and the beginnings of hope. “Thank you,” she breathed, the words barely audible, fragile as a feather on the wind. “Thank you for not letting me push you away.”
The vulnerability in her voice strengthened Sharva’s resolve. Whatever darkness loomed ahead, he would stand by her side. For her, he would fight. For her, he would endure.
Before another word could pass between them, a sudden knock shattered the fragile moment. Their eyes met, and fear darkened hers once more.
The world had come for her again. But this time, she wasn’t alone. And Sharva would ensure it never took her away.
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